


you're the coldest form of warm

by Probably_Not_Captain_America



Category: Fantastic Four, Fantastic Four (Movies 2005-2007), Fantastic Four (Movies)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Kinda, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, no, not sorry, probably unrealistic amount of blushing, will i ever write these two without begging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 13:10:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Probably_Not_Captain_America/pseuds/Probably_Not_Captain_America
Summary: What was the manthinking, turning up like that and behaving like they’re just colleagues or something? Reed had trouble making sense of it.Then again, he’d always had trouble making sense of Victor.---Victor von Doom miraculously returns from the dead, and Reed is forced to address a few feelings he'd rather have left buried along with him.





	you're the coldest form of warm

**Author's Note:**

> YES, I like the 2005/7 movies. I love them, actually. Don't like, don't read.  
> Song: White Eyes by The Wombats

“Wait a second.”

Susan sighs through her nose, crosses her arms and assesses the men in front of her, her gaze settling on the taller one. She frowns.

“Now look here, _Victor,_ ” she says, pronouncing his name like an insult, “I don’t know nor do I particularly care how you managed to turn up alive and healthy again after what happened in New York. But let me tell you one thing…”

Sue steps up to Victor, unfazed by his height, and fixes him with a look that could kill.

“If you lay one goddamn hand on my husband, or anyone, for that matter, you are _guaranteed_ to stay dead this time. Understood?”

“Now, Susan, I don’t think we…” Reed starts, but Sue just shuts him up with a raised hand, not breaking eye contact with Victor.

Neither does Victor. None of them intent on losing their stare duel, a beat passes in tense, awkward silence. Then, Victor gives a low, guttural chuckle.

“Indeed…Susan, dear, you shouldn’t be worried, really. Reed here and I are going to get along just fine, aren’t we?”

At that, Victor places an arm around Reed’s shoulder, and Reed stiffens a little. He smiles awkwardly, but says nothing.

Susan clearly disapproves of Victor touching Reed at all, but she just huffs another angry sigh and turns to leave.

“Just do your damn work. Reed, if he gets on your nerves, tell me, will you? I’d throw him out any minute.”

And with that, she slams the lab door, and is gone.

Reed relaxes a little and inwardly rolls his eyes.

_Sheesh._

This has been going on for a while now, he thinks, ever since Victor’s been back in town. Sue’s practically been looking for opportunities to rip Victor’s head off at every turn, and to be honest, Reed can’t blame her. He just wishes he himself were a little less trusting of their “old friend”. After all he’s done…

Victor’s arm is still around Reed’s shoulder. Reed turns his head a little to get a better look at Victor’s face. The metallic patches are gone, and so is the mask; in fact, Reed thinks, Victor looks even better than he did before he ever went to space. His hair is full again, his eyes sparkling, his skin smooth, the line of his left collarbone just barely visible at his open shirt collar when he turns his head…

Reed swallows.

He likes Susan, he really, really does. Reed’s pretty sure he loves her, actually. They _were_ trying to get married earlier, anyways, so that probably counts for something. She’s smart, beautiful, friendly, emotional, really anything Reed could have ever hoped for. But Victor…

He’s arrogant. Narcissistic, even. A supreme egoist. Unscrupulous to the max. Leaves dead bodies in his wake, both figuratively and literally. Wouldn’t stop at anything to achieve his goals.

Short version, he’s an asshole.

Thing is, he’s a damn _handsome_ asshole.

“…Reed? Are you even listening? You look a little zoned out.”

Reed shakes his head quickly.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well lately. You know, the wedding…” he trails off, and thinks it’s probably about time to remove Victor’s arm from his shoulder. He doesn't, though, just like he doesn’t tell Victor that he zoned out because he was more busy looking at Victor’s lips than listening to what they were saying.

“Ah, yes. Very stressful, I imagine,” Victor says, and now he draws his arm back. Reed is absolutely sure he really didn’t want him to leave it there a while longer.

Reed laughs awkwardly.

“Yeah…”

He leaves the word hanging. What else should he say? He’s never been good at small talk, much less when it’s Victor, of all people, he’s supposed to be holding it with. What was the man _thinking_ , turning up like that and behaving like they’re just colleagues or something? Reed had trouble making sense of it.

Then again, he’d always had trouble making sense of Victor.

The man in question has moved over to Reed’s work station in the meantime, inspecting the various screens and devices strewn haphazardly over a too-small desk.

“So, I see you’ve done quite some work already…”

While he speaks, Victor picks up a stack of paper littered with calculations and notes in Reed’s messy handwriting and shuffles through them, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh dear. I _do_ think you’ll need my help on some of this.”

Reed glares at him.

“Yeah. You know, I wonder how I even manage to dress in the morning without your help. “

Victor lifts his head from the papers to look at him, eyebrow still raised and that trademark mocking smirk on his lips that makes Reed want to draw him closer by his goddamn always-slightly-open shirt and wipe it off his face, either with a punch or a kiss. Maybe both.

Reed huffs and looks away.

“Anyway. I quote the great Susan Storm when I say, just get to work.”

Victor’s smirk widens a little, but he obliges and settles in the nearest chair to study Reed’s notes on the sensors in earnest.

\---

They work away for quite some time, the silence only occasionally broken by Victor asking what a particularly messy bit of handwriting was supposed to mean. He comes awfully close to Reed every time he does, and Reed thinks it’s really quite unnecessary, but he breathes in Victor’s scent nonetheless. Victor smells of cedar, and leather, and somehow metallic, tangy like blood and copper, and Reed wonders just what exactly happened to his metal skin.

After he’s absolutely not spend the previous ten minutes looking at Victor chewing on his pencil in concentration, curiosity gets the better of Reed, and he leans closer.

“So…Victor?”

Victor looks up, hastily withdrawing the pencil from his mouth, like he’s embarrassed being caught red-handed in a rather plebeian habit.

“Hmm, Reed? What is it? Need my help?”

Reed ignores him.

“Just where did your skin condition thing go? Is it cured? Did it go away after the extraterrestrial entity engaged you?”

Victor looks a little taken aback, but he quickly regains his usual composure.

“You’re quite observant, aren’t you? Yes, indeed, the permanent effects of the radiation exposure have been lessened upon contact with the alien energy…”

Victor trails off and scribbles something on his page, indicating he really doesn’t want to be having this conversation whatsoever. Reed presses on, though.

“Lessened? It looks gone to me.”

Victor sighs in resignation, wordlessly rolls up his sleeve and stretches out his arm.

Reed opens his mouth to say something, but stops when he sees Victor’s skin change shape before him, returning to the metallic alloy it had been composed of before.

Reed becomes aware that he’s gaping, and quickly closes his mouth.

“Wow. So you can control it now? That’s fascinating! When we’re done with this whole alien thing, I really need to run some tests on you!”

Instinctively, Reed reaches out to touch the smooth, shiny surface of Victor’s arm. It feels odd, both warm and cold at the same time, and when Victor flexes his fingers, the movement travels up his muscles in a weird rippling motion.

It takes Reed a few moments of tactile examination to realize that Victor isn’t protesting at Reed’s unusually grabby behavior. Flustered, he quickly draws his fingers back and looks away. When Reed feels obliged to look back after an awkward moment, he sees that Victor has changed his form completely now. Like an animated statue, his entire face is metallic, the contours accentuated by chiseled lines, not unlike those of the mask he’d worn. His hair is gone, and his eyes gleam green like plasma.

Reed’s mouth opens with a silent noise of wonder, and without thinking, he reaches out to touch Victor’s face; the prospect of running his fingers over the indented texture of the lines is just too intriguing.

Victor lets him, and he actually smiles after a moment, the line of his mouth curving in the most peculiar way. It’s like seeing the Statue of Liberty frown. Dimly aware he’s probably overstepping a few boundaries, Reed traces Victor’s lips with careful fingertips, captivated by the completely unknown sensation.

He’s been gradually leaning closer to Victor the past minute, and ended up too close for comfort, really, but he can’t help it; always a man of science, Reed’s mind is running hot with possibilities and theories of how Victor’s metabolism might function, how resilient his skin is to attack…

It’s not his fault, it really isn’t. It’s a combination of basic instinct and scientific curiosity when Reed leans in to brush his lips over Victor’s in a brief, chaste kiss. It feels _weird_ , and also possibly better than it should; when he draws back, Reed’s stomach is fluttering in a decidedly un-scientific reaction.

“My, my, Richards…how did the saying go again, you know, about curiosity and the cat?”

Victor’s voice snaps Reed out of the almost hypnotic daze he’d slipped into. He claps a hand to his mouth and feels himself flushing an embarrassingly vibrant shade of red.

_Holy shit, what did I just **do**?!_

Victor chuckles, sounding genuinely amused as his body reverts back to normal, his eyes losing their sheen and his hair reappearing. It’s a fascinating sight, likely a change at molecular or even atomic level, but Reed can’t quite appreciate it when he’s busy being mortified.

“I…oh god, I’m _sorry_ , that wasn’t…I mean…” Reed stutters helplessly in Victor’s general direction, alternating between looking at his shoes and the wall.

He freezes when he feels a warm, soft hand at the back of his neck, not metallic but definitely still Victor’s. Reed squeezes his eyes shut, fully expecting Victor to strangle him at this point and not really disagreeing with the choice.

And then he grunts, because Victor has drawn him into a very rough, very human kiss.

“ _Hmph_ …!”

That’s the most qualified comment Reed can give at that point, because Victor is shoving his tongue into Reed’s mouth, and Reed isn’t quite sure whether he agrees with that or not.

Turns out he does, because he immediately misses the feeling when Victor draws back for a breath. Reed is thoroughly confused, his mouth hanging a little open and eyes slightly out of focus, blurring his vision. When it clears, he gets a glimpse of Victor’s predatory grin and dark eyes before the other man slips a hand in his hair and pulls Reed in for another kiss.

Reed’s decided that he doesn’t really mind all that much, and angles his head to kiss back, opening his mouth to Victor. Victor actually _growls_ and roughly yanks Reed upwards by his hair, drawing a half-pain-half-surprise (and a good part pleasure, too) gasp from Reed.

Now that they’re standing, Victor doesn’t waste any time in working his other hand underneath Reed’s shirt, starting at the small of his back, all the while kissing Reed breathless with seemingly very little effort. Reed dares to raise his hands to Victor’s neck, drawing his thumbs over the sensitive skin right beneath his ears.

Victor makes a noise deep in his throat and shoves a thigh between Reed’s, crowding him against the desk edge; Reed nearly squeaks at the intimate contact and doesn’t protest when Victor pushes stacks of paper aside to heave Reed onto the desk.

They have to separate for breath, and Reed realizes just how much smaller he is than Victor as he nuzzles his face to Victor’s neck, which is now at comfortable eye level.

Victor hums lowly and opens his upper shirt buttons (the ones that aren’t already open, anyway), yanking the collar aside to give Reed more room, and Reed greedily sucks at the skin, fully intending to leave a mark. Reed licks and nips at Victor’s neck, while his hands make their way to Victor’s remaining shirt buttons, slowly undoing them. He slides a hand up Victor’s tense abdomen, tracing the lines of his impressive muscles up to his collarbone.

 **_Damn_ ** _, he’s hot._

Reed _really_ isn’t supposed to be doing this, at all, by any standards, ever, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy every second of it. He’d _also_ be lying if he claimed he hadn’t thought of doing this more than once when he was in bed with Sue, and he suppresses the spike of guilt by biting at Victor’s neck sharply.

Victor hisses and fists his hand in Reed’s hair, more painfully than before, and Reed responds with a groan, purposefully stopping his scalp from stretching with the force.

Victor roughly pulls Reed away and wraps a hand around his throat, thumb pressing into the groove below his Adam’s apple, and Reed dips his head back to allow the near-hostile contact, his gaze meeting Victor’s in challenge. The corner of Victor’s mouth twitches upwards in a too-dark grin, and he tightens his grip as he yanks Reed’s shirt open.

Reed allows Victor to remove his shirt entirely, sliding the sleeves off himself, and then he pulls Victor down into another searing kiss, their teeth clashing together with the force of it. Reed’s already hard and sensitive nipples brush over the fabric of Victor’s open shirt, sending him arching up into the contact with a moan.

Victor’s hand is travelling up Reed’s thigh, fingers skirting tantalizingly close to Reed’s groin, where his increasingly aching erection is visibly straining his pants. Reed grunts and shifts closer, eliciting an amused snicker from Victor at his eagerness.

Dipping his head, Victor mouths at Reed’s ear, and Reed gives a high, wavering sound, almost a wail, that he’s never heard from himself before.

Victor laughs, his breath ghosting over Reed’s neck. He licks a stripe up Reed’s jugular, and Reed thinks he should probably be alarmed at that, but it just feels _so damn good_ that he can’t really bring himself to care. Victor bites at the sensitive skin between neck and shoulder, and a shudder runs through Reed, right up his spine, drawing a small gasp from him.

He’s really quite _vocal_ , and it unsettles him; he’s usually quiet and reserved, but the way Victor hits all of his buttons is making it hard to stay still.

Then Reed feels Victor fidgeting at his belt, and Reed jerks back in alarm. Victor just cocks his head, a condescending look on his face.

“What is it, Richards? Backing out now?”

He moves closer to Reed.

“Are you _scared_?”

Victor’s voice is low and venomous, sending a jolt of excitement right down to Reed’s cock. _Why does he always sound so damn sensual? It’s not fair,_ Reed thinks, biting his lower lip and looking away.

“…no.”

“ _Good_ ,” Victor spits, and slams his palm right into Reed’s crotch. Reed _yelps_ , instinctively moving away, but Victor’s hand is back at his throat, pinning him.

Reed’s breath comes heavy, his eyes are squeezed shut, and he thinks he really ought to be leaving at this point. Victor has _no right_ …

“Oh, but I _do_ ,” Victor says, unnervingly responding to Reed’s thoughts, as he undoes Reed’s belt and wraps his hand around Reed’s cock.

The contact is almost painful in its intensity, making Reed grit his teeth to stifle a loud mewl.

“ _Do_ keep making those lovely sounds, Richards…” Victor’s voice is low in Reed’s ear, and Reed huffs a breath through his nose at the sensation. Victor starts moving his hand, and Reed _can’t help it_ , he gasps again, Victor speeding up in response.

Reed bites his lip to keep himself from further noises as Victor roughly jerks him off, his hand slicked with Reed’s own precome.

All of a sudden, Victor lets go, and Reed bucks up involuntarily, chasing the touch. Victor laughs, and then he lifts Reed up as if he weighed nothing to completely pull down his pants and boxers in one swooping motion.

“ _What the_ …” Reed begins, but the sound is cut off when Victor shoves two fingers into his mouth.

“ _Hmph!”_ Reed grunts, but Victor doesn’t move, he just looks at Reed expectantly. Reed glares at him, but starts sucking on the intrusive digits nonetheless; Victor’s nails are perfectly manicured, and he tastes of his and Reed’s mingled sweat, and Reed slides his eyes shut as he blushes at the indignity of the action.

“ _Very good…_ ” Victor murmurs, and Reed nips at his fingers, to which Victor responds by tugging at Reeds hair, removing his hand.

Reed looks at Victor, licking his lips, searching Victor’s face for any indication of what that was supposed to be for. Victor grins, baring his somehow unnaturally sharp teeth, and as it dawns on Reed what he’s probably about to do, Victor has already lifted Reed up and sunk two fingers into him.

Reed yanks his arm up, stifling a too-loud moan in the back of his hand.

“ _Victor…!”_

Victor kisses him, the condescending grin still on his face, and swallows Reed’s gasp as he curls his fingers inwards, hitting Reed’s prostate. Reed arches upwards into the touch, locking his heels around Victor’s legs and throwing his arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life as Victor sets him down, allowing gravity to draw his fingers deeper into Reed.

It doesn’t hurt, the slickness and Reed’s powers make sure of that, but it’s embarrassing, Reed thinks, the way he’s rocking himself up at Victor, desperate in his need for him. Reed grinds his head into Victor’s shoulder, gasping and moaning into skin as Victor moves his hand inside of Reed, adding a third finger.

Reed’s hand leaves Victor’s back to touch his aching, weeping erection, but Victor grabs his wrist and stops him. Reed groans into Victor’s shoulder, bucking up against him.

“ _Say it,”_ Victor demands, low and breathy, and Reed scowls and bites his neck.

“ ** _Say it_** _, Richards_ ,” he says again, a dangerous razor-blade edge to his voice this time, and Reed groans in resignation.

“Touch me.”

“Come again?”

Reed knows what Victor wants to hear, and he _needs this, goddamn it,_ so he corrects:

“Touch me, _please_.”

Victor hums his approval and _finally_ touches Reed’s cock again, and Reed _really_ hopes none of the other tenants of the Baxter building are within hearing distance as he lets out a high, desperate whine, burying his face in Victor’s shoulder again.

Victor doesn’t stop, and Reed fists a shaky hand in Victor’s full, silky hair; Victor lets him, for some reason Reed’s not quite sure of.

“Mhnn…Victor… _Victor_ …”

Reed’s head is spinning, and he knows he really shouldn’t be giving in to the impulse of calling Victor’s name like that, but _damn it,_ Victor’s good at this, way better than he should be, and Reed has wanted this for longer than what would be considered healthy or ethical, considering his engagement to Sue, and damn _damn **damn**_ …

“Oh dear. Far be it from me to judge, but I daresay you’re far more used to calling my name like that than you should be, aren’t you, Richards…?”

Victor’s voice is honeyed, for all intents and purposes sounding _nice_ , and Reed’s starting to understand how the man built such a successful business when he’s this good at sugaring his words.

“…shut up.”

It’s not the wittiest retort Reed’s ever given, but it’s admittedly rather hard when Victor’s hands are still all over and inside him; the sensation also stops Reed from dwelling on the truth of that statement for too long.

Victor chuckles, seeming completely unfazed by the fact that he’s currently busy fingering Reed up on his work desk. He always did know how to keep his composure.

Reed, on the other hand, didn’t, because even as he knows he shouldn’t, he keeps on moaning Victor’s name as he approaches climax, and then Victor runs his thumb over Reed’s tip while simultaneously curling his fingers right into his prostate, and _oh god **Victor**_ …

Reed practically screams the name when he comes, tightly curled up around Victor as he’s shaken by the pleasure; Victor doesn’t stop, though, fucking him through it, then bringing him down with slow, languid strokes.

Reed is panting into Victor’s chest, occasionally twitching with aftershocks, and Victor draws his fingers out and pats him on the back, the gesture patronizing.

Reed has regained enough presence of mind to disapprove, so he sits up as well as he can and shakes Victor’s hand off. Victor looks utterly smug and pleased with himself, the corner of his mouth curling upwards, and Reed really hates Victor (and himself, too) in that moment.

Still breathing heavily, but pointedly prolonging the silence, Reed starts to fix his appearance; or at least, he tries, because in the middle of buttoning his shirt back up and hoping he’ll look vaguely presentable, Victor raises his hand to Reed’s mouth, and with a low voice, he says:

“Lick it off.”

Reed gives him an utterly bewildered stare.

“ _Excuse_ me?”

Victor raises an eyebrow.

“Did you go hard of hearing when I wasn’t looking? I _said_ , lick it off. Or, if you want me to elaborate, which your expression seems to imply…”

Reed shuts his mouth ( _whoops_ ).

“…I’m telling you to lick your semen off my left hand, because _you_ made a mess of it and as such, _you_ ought to remove it.”

Reed never thought himself the blushing type, but at that indecent command, spoken in Victor’s _goddamn perfect voice_ , he can feel a bright flush creep up his neck again, settling on his face.

Reed swallows, looking away.

“Victor…”

“Hm?”

Victor cocks his head expectantly.

_Well, it’s not like Reed doesn’t want to…_

Without looking at Victor, Reed takes his hand into his own and starts tentatively licking.

He feels distinctly like he landed in some really bad porn flick as he laps his own come off Victor’s fingers, the bitter taste of it sure to settle in his mouth for a while. Reed draws his lips over Victor’s knuckles, runs his tongue over manicured fingertips, gently grazes his teeth over a soft but strong palm, keeping his eyes closed and focusing on the sensation.

When he’s pretty sure he’s done, Reed releases Victor’s hand and slowly opens his eyes to Victor’s dark, hungry eyes. It scares Reed; the last time he’s seen this expression form him, people had died.

“You _are_ good with that mouth, Richards, I’ll give you that. Now, why don’t we see where else you could put it to use…”

And that’s the only warning Reed gets before Victor yanks him to his feet by his shirt, and then roughly shoves him to his knees before Victor.

“ _Ow_!”

Reed hits his knees on the hard floor, and while it’s more surprise and phantom pain than real possibility of bruises (those had long since stopped appearing on him, his mutated physiology be thanked), it’s still jarring.

“What the hell…”

Reed motions to get back to his feet, but Victor pushes him down by his shoulders.

“What does it _look like_ , Richards?”

Reed grunts and looks down. He’s not _that_ naïve, and not that innocent, either.

He huffs a breath through his nose.

“Fine.”

“That’s what I thought…”

Victor strokes Reed’s hair as Reed undoes his expensive leather belt, sliding it off, then opening Victor’s fly.

Victor’s not quite as unaffected as he seems, clearly having gotten very hard in the past minutes, and Reed mouths at his impressively-sized cock through his boxers.

Victor groans and pulls Reed closer, grinding Reed’s face into his groin, and Reed thinks that that _really_ shouldn’t be hot to him right now.

Reed draws back to pull Victor’s underwear down completely, and when he carefully brushes his lips over Victor’s uncut tip, Victor wastes no time and pushes his way right in.

Reed’s surprised sound of _Victor_ gets muffled beyond cohesion as Victor starts thrusting into Reed’s mouth relentlessly, grabbing Reed by his hair.

“I have reason to believe your gagging reflex is obsolete now…”

Victor trails off, clearly preferring to test his theory directly to discussing it at length.

_He’s right, damn it._

Victor’s breathing heavily, leaning with one arm on the desk in front of him while holding Reed’s head with the other.

“ _Aah_ …you know, I can’t deny I’ve wanted this for a while now. Shutting your _fucking noisy smartass mouth_ up with my cock has been pretty high up on the – _hhr-_ \-  list of things I want to do to you…”

Victor accentuates every other word with a sharp thrust, going particularly hard on the noisy part, and Reed isn’t sure he wants to find out what the other items on that list are; from what he can gather from the brutal way Victor fucks his mouth, it’s not a very pleasant list.

With a stifled, guttural groan, Victor comes in Reed’s mouth, and Reed has no choice but to swallow all of it as Victor keeps his head in a vise grip.

When Victor finally lets go, slumping forward to support his weight on the desk, Reed slides out from under him and gets back to his feet.

He’s looking thoroughly disheveled at this point, hair in a mess, lips swollen, fucked raw in too many ways and probably smelling the part, too. He has no idea how he’s supposed to get himself back to a presentable state, and as he closes the remainder of his shirt buttons, he prays to every god he doesn’t believe in that Sue isn’t going to walk in on them like this.

Victor has regained his composure, drawing the least soiled hand through his hair to fix it at least marginally. He’s still a little flushed, and his breath is accelerated, and somewhere deep down Reed thinks he wouldn’t really mind doing that to Victor a lot more often.

Watching as Victor does his shirt cuffs with minute precision, Reed sighs.

_The grass is always greener on the other side, isn’t it?_

_How ironic._

Fixing his own shirt collar, Reed wonders just how much the universe must hate them sometimes.

**Author's Note:**

> Heeey:D i totally love the 2000s movies, and im not sorry. screw you. this has been lurking in my mind for a while now, so i finally decided to let it out:> also i may or may not want julian mcmahons victor to fuck me into next week. who knows.  
> will probably write more for the movies at some point, too. because i can.  
> also all lower case title bc i can. hehe.
> 
> As always, point out any obvious mistakes, and comments make me happy:>


End file.
